


Fate//NEON

by QVince



Series: Fate//NEON [1]
Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night: Unlimited Blade Works (Anime 2014)
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 22:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QVince/pseuds/QVince
Summary: Twenty years after the Fuyuki Holy Grail War, the daughter of Shirou Emiya and Rin Tohsaka wakes up in her bed-- cold, and alone.Things have changed drastically in the downtime since then. A new threat is starting to emerge-- completely without the tampering of the Grail.





	Fate//NEON

The calm, shallow waters keep me afloat.

As I drift through this infinitely stretching pool of what they left behind, I stare upwards to the heavens.

My eyes flicker between the thousands of stars above me, and I can feel myself twitching as they stare back down at me.

The stars are watching.

I can see them. Beings and shapes I can’t comprehend.

The stars are watching.

Their eyes open up all across the night sky.

The stars are watching.

* * *

 

_Fuyuki._

_Twenty years since the last Holy Grail War._

I awoke with a start, jolting up in bed as I looked around. My room was dark, illuminated dimly by moonlight and the large LED signs plastered on buildings across the cityscape outside my windows. It wasn’t a surprise. I’ve been suffering from odd, surreal dreams lately. I’ve suspected it being from the new medication I’ve started to take to help get to sleep, but if I didn’t take it, well… it’s hard to sleep at night when you live next to busy intersections and highways. Night seems like the busiest part of the day now.

I grudgingly got up, wiping my eyes and looking into the mirror on my bedside desk. My hair tends to be a mess in general, but constantly rolling around in my sleep doesn’t help. I put my hands on the desk, as my legs were still weak and shaky from just waking up.

I stand tall in the mirror, my head just about reaching the top border of it. I’m not sure where I inherited it from; both my father and mother both stood at around the same height, and that wasn’t much. At least, compared to where I stood now.

My hair was cut short, to the top of my neck but not much longer than that. The deep brown, near black hue of my hair, contrasted sharply with how pale my skin had gotten in recent years.

More importantly, deep red lipstick was smeared all over my mouth. It suddenly came to mind that I didn’t even wash my face, let alone wash off my makeup before going to sleep last night. I had gone to a club and wanted to at least look somewhat presentable, but instead of socializing or finding someone to bring home I just ended up drinking all night and then stumbling home in a drunken stupor. A dumb decision on my part. Not the drinking, but going home alone like that. The streets haven’t been safe around these parts for a rather long time.

After two huge incidents, respectively twenty and thirty years ago, the populace of Fuyuki tended to wonder if there would be another cataclysmic event any day now. It wasn’t stated outright; often just in hushed, nervous whispers from time to time, whenever anything unusual happened. The fires of Fuyuki and the respective “accidents”  had been billed as just that by both the police force and the local government; accidents. I knew better, or at least, was told so.

My father passed when I was around eight years old. He never told me about such things, and in the end, I’m not sure if I ever knew too much about him. A lot of stories he told me were usually pretty boring things about what kind of person he was in school, the friends he made there, and how he met my mother. The story of how he met her was usually the same, but he always seemed to dodge the question or make up a new story whenever I asked how they got together. I wondered about it, but I couldn’t argue with it at the time. After all, what did I know?

Then, after he passed away, a while after, my mother started to tell me everything. Stories of how they got together during the second Holy Grail War she went through, what transpired, who they met… who they lost. I started to disregard it as I grew up, dismissing it as fairy tales that my mother told me to help lessen the blow of losing my father at such a young age.

After a recent outburst, she ended up a mental hospital; something set her off in a public place, something about her screaming at a man and trying to physically assault him. I usually tried to visit, but I kept getting pushed away and told something along the times of “it’s not a good time”. I had moved out when I turned eighteen, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt guilty about it.

Mother was always lonely since father passed away, and I just don’t think I could’ve provided the sort of companionship she needed. Sometimes old classmates would visit back then and talk, but she never really had a true friend since then she could talk to. Maybe she just snapped from the loneliness and getting caught up in her own thoughts for too long… and that’s what I felt guilty about the most. Maybe if I had stayed, she wouldn’t have gotten in trouble like this…

I shook my head. I was getting lost in my own thoughts again, too. But now, I was far too awake to just go to bed. My meds wear off pretty quickly, it was just meant to be an aid for actually  _getting_ to sleep.  

I needed to take a walk. Or, maybe hit the club again….

* * *

 

“Mrs.Emiya? Sorry for the late visit, but we noticed some noise in here and, well… you have a delivery, as well.”

The black-haired woman shuffled to the door, a lack of sleep evident in her eyes. She was given a decent sized room all to herself, though with a lack of anything easily breakable or formed into a weapon. The orderly waited patiently outside the room, waiting for a real response. He could easily open the door himself, but the place was designed to give patients at least some form of the illusion of freedom.

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Rin said tiredly. She frowned at the orderly when she opened the door, looking from his nervous face down to the package he was holding. It was already opened and checked through, and she noticed that from the tape along the top being cut.

“You people always rifle through my stuff!” she angrily stated, snatching the package from the orderly, causing him to stiffen a bit. Her face softened momentarily. “… is it from Kaida?”

“Sorry Mrs. Emiya, it’s standard procedure…. the package came from a… er…”

He pulled a slip from his pocket, eyeing the name carefully.

“L-Lord…. El-Melloi the Second…?” he continued, a bit put off from the title, and also being certain he mispronounced it.

Rin raised an eyebrow but made sure not to make any other sort of telling expression.

“Fine. Go.” she barked sharply, turning and kicking the door closed with the back of her foot.

She plopped down on the floor, flipping the hinges on the box open and immediately shuffling through everything with her hands. A letter. A large, red silken bag. Candles, chalk, and… a rock.

Rin opened the bag and immediately grinned. A collection of jewels that no one but her would know the true meaning behind. A collection that she knew how to use more than anyone else. She cut the envelope open with a nail, pulling out the letter and reading over it.

_“Dear Rin Emiya,_

_I wish I could properly put my condolences and apologies down on paper. It’s been incredibly hectic and busy at the Clock Tower, especially recently. I heard what happened to young Emiya, and I can only offer my deepest sympathies. I regret not being able to at least visit during what I can only imagine being such a rough period for you. I wish I could have. I wish even more that I could come to you with words of reassurance and optimism, but I’m afraid I come bearing official business with our common association._

_There is something coming. What we can only describe as waves of mana have been encircling the word, occasionally peaking and pulsing. We’re not sure precisely what is happening currently, but we fear the worst. In this package, I have procured all the materials necessary for a summoning ritual. The entire Association is in a flurry gathering up whatever catalysts we can in case of emergency, and I haven’t been able to find your pendant that was lost during your last visit here. It may not be what you hoped for, but I found a catalyst for a servant you at least have some history with. It was all I can manage to hide alongside the rest of the materials in this package. I hope it serves you well, and I pray for you and your daughter’s safety._

_Sincerely, Lord El-Melloi II”_

Rin held the letters in her hand a bit weakly, eyes watering.

“It really has been that long, hasn’t it…”

She looked back into the box, picking up the rock and examining it closer.

Flipping it over, her eyes widened as she realized what exactly she was given.

Engraved on the back, a Nordic Rune. A smile graced her lips again, the memories of a warrior’s last gripes with his life coming to mind. The memories of a friendship, however short.

_“I wonder if I've 'grown up' since then... will you still remember me... Lancer?”_

* * *

 

Water dripped down my face as I started to clean myself up, having moved to the bathroom. Wiping it a towel, I took a deep look at my own reflection. There was always something that unsettled me when I did, but I could never place it. Like I was looking at a stranger.

As I stared blankly into reflected blue eyes, thoughts of my mother came back to mind. Who knows how they’re treating her in there? Have I really tried enough to reach her? Could I have been doing more to help her?

How much of her current situation is my fault?

I looked away, unable to really stomach my own face.

I moved out pretty quickly upon becoming an adult. While my father was the easygoing one generally, my mother tended to be far more strict. Not necessarily in a bad way, looking back, but… growing up in a house with just her, and no balance… I grew rebellious pretty quickly. She was firm about good grades, how to be proper and polite, and all the pressure just built in my head.

And, when I could, I left, not even thinking about how she’d feel.

I’ve had friends who have had the same situation, but their parents were far, far worse. Mine was strict, yes, but she was incredibly warm and loving to me, unlike a lot of theirs. Now that she’s gotten into trouble, I’ve been doubting myself and the decision I made far more. It felt good to become independent… but I could’ve done it without leaving her behind.

Kaida Emiya.

Kaida… how long has it been since I heard her say that name?

I closed my eyes, knuckles white from squeezing the edge of the bathroom sink just a bit too hard.

I needed to visit her. Visiting hours would be over tonight, but tomorrow.  _Tomorrow._ I don’t care if they say it’s a bad time, I’ll throw a fit, shout and scream in a way my mom would be proud of.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a snippet of a much larger project I had been doing some work in. It had a huge scope I had plotted out, but my current job takes a lot of energy and time away from me and I wasn't sure whether or not it would be worth it to continue. I'm taking any and all questions/comments regarding it, and if it's something people are even remotely interested in me continuing, I'll give it a shot sometime!


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